Puppet
by MWolfe13
Summary: He had her right where he wanted her, and she would be his.


**Written for Fairest of the Rare's Fairest's Freaky Spooktacular. **

**This ended up being a drabble instead of a bigger story.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Meet me at our spot at midnight. _

Hermione clutched the note to her chest, excitement and anticipation filling her. The words on the parchment, written in her husband's handwriting, had left her in a state of confusion and cautious hope since she'd come home from work. For years, they'd been trying for a child with no success. The Healer's found nothing wrong with her, but more superstitious types whispered she had trouble conceiving because her hips were too narrow. Her body was not built for childbirth, at least not an easy one. The news had crushed her, but her husband had resolved to find them a way to have a baby.

Evidently, he had. For why else would he want her to meet him at their special place on All Hallow's Eve?

Now she had apparated to the beginning of the path and was making her way to the clearing he'd proposed to her in. The moon was high and full in the sky, shining brightly among the trees. Animals scurried here and there, birds calling their mates as they flew from one tree to another. Hermione wrapped the cloak she'd tossed on before leaving their home a little tighter around herself. The weather had been fair as of late, but like what always seemed to happen on All Hallow's Eve, the temperature had dropped to chilling degrees.

She was slightly out of breath when she reached the clearing. They hadn't been here in a while. Hermione didn't see her husband anywhere, confusing her, but then she spotted the blanket laid out over the ground, a single bottle of wine and two glasses on the material. She smiled, thinking how romantic he was being. He _must _have found a solution to their problem. Finally. Tonight was the night.

Hermione didn't know where her husband was, but she didn't think it would hurt to sample the wine before he came back. It would help settle her nerves. So she sat gingerly on the blanket, opening the full bottle and poured the rich red liquid into the glass. Taking a testing sip, Hermione let the flavor roll over her tongue. Truly, her husband knew her well. She downed the delicious wine, already reaching for the bottle to pour another glass.

_Stop _

Her hand froze, the wine glass slipping from her fingertips and landing harmlessly on the ground. She knew that voice.

_Come here. _

Her body moved to obey even though her mind screamed for her to stop. Her will was no longer her own, though. She watched desperately as a familiar man walked through the line of trees, giving her a satisfied grin as her legs took her to his side. No. Please no.

"And finally," Antonin Dolohov whispered as he brushed a finger down her cheek. "You are mine."

But those words, spoken by a man whom she hated with every fiber of her being, let Hermione break through just a bit. Just enough to take a small step back and look at him in defiance.

Antonin chuckled darkly, grabbing her arm and pulling her hard against him. "Oh, moya lyubov, you should not have done that." Wandlessly summoning the wine from where she'd left it on the blanket, he got rid of the cork, pressing it to her lips. "Drink."

She had enough control to shake her head.

Before Hermione could do anything else, he slammed his mouth down on hers. She tried to pull her head away, her body was no longer cooperating, but he gave her no chance. He forced his tongue to tangle with her own, kissing her until Hermione needed to breathe. And while she was taking in deep breaths, he lifted his head and brought the bottle to her lips. This time, she could not evade the cursed liquid that ran down her throat. She shook her head frantically, but he finally grabbed her curls in a tight grip, keeping her head still.

She knew something was wrong before she'd even finished the wine. She fell to her knees, hand weakly coming up to grasp at the skin over her heart. Her heartbeat was like a roar in her ears, blocking out every sound until whispered Russian was all she could hear. She could not make sense of the words, her brain was too clouded, but she knew they were nothing good. Soon, her mind blanked of all but the foreign words in her head.

_Take out your wand. _

Hermione did as the voice bid, listening to the words that were next crooned in her ears. When asked if she understood nodded. She had her orders.

First, she went to the only location that could sound an alarm quick enough, coming out of the floo with a smile ready. The redheaded woman walked in with a surprised look, but it was quickly replaced with a delighted grin. Before she could call out a greeting, Hermione said her spell, calmly watching as the woman dropped. The man with messy hair followed, shocked at the scene, following the woman shortly after with a flick of her wrist.

She went to a very familiar place next. She didn't hesitate to strike down the man who came out of a room, taking no notice of the love that had appeared in his eyes at the sight of her. She went to her next target, and the next, no one able to send a call for help before it was too late to realize their friend was no longer their friend.

It was only the beginning.


End file.
